


Language Barrier

by Laurasauras



Series: AO3 Anniversary Flash Fiction [24]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Anal Sex, First Meetings, Interspecies Sex, Language Barrier, M/M, Mermaid John Egbert - Freeform, Mermaids, Oral Sex, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, fanfic giveaway, well this went over wordcount by a fucktonne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 06:59:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15903228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laurasauras/pseuds/Laurasauras
Summary: Dirk finally approaches the merman he's been watching from afar. John is happy to meet him.





	Language Barrier

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Meister (CruelInsanity)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CruelInsanity/gifts).



> ultistes-meister asked:
> 
> Nsfw. Merman John and human Dirk, first meeting. On a beach. Language barrier. Body language is universal though.

Two months ago, you didn't think mermaids were real. One month and three weeks ago, you thought, holy shit, mermaids are real and I've  _seen_ one, how excellent do they have to be at hiding to have gone so long being regarded as myths? A month ago, you thought the particular mermaid (merman?) you were lowkey stalking must just be the worst hider of all time. 

Now you're thinking if you can't get this magical idiot to fuck you before your exchange program is up it'll be the biggest missed opportunity of your life. 

He's not hard to find. He's never noticed you following him before and he's got favourite spots. You suppose if you hadn't spent the last couple of months staring at him every second you're not at the lab or sleeping, you probably would just think he's some guy, sunbathing near the rock pools. The shine of his blue scaley tail could be something innocuous, like ... well this is your point, he's pretty shit at hiding. 

You haven't been able to work up the courage to approach him before now, but your time in Greece is coming to a close and your brother hasn't stopped teasing you about what he is pretty sure is a joke fixation on a mythical creature. You really want to take a selfie while getting boned by a merman to pay him back for subjecting you to the selfie he took with his last one night stand. You don't know how many times you and Rose have told him not to add shit like that to his Snapchat story. At least send it just to the people you’re not related to, god.

You keep yourself hidden until there's literally no more hiding spaces left and then walk up to him. He turns as you approach and grins. 

Okay, what?

'Shouldn't you be running ... or flopping, whatever, away? Pretty sure you're supposed to be incognito.'

The merman seems to reply, but whatever language he's speaking isn't any that you know. You're a bit taken aback by how very not human it sounds. Kind of like he's singing, but backwards, and he rolls every possible letter he can. 

'That's gonna make things more difficult,' you say. Maybe you should try speaking Greek. Surely it's more likely he can speak that than English. Hell, you'd whip out French or Hindi if you thought it would help, but you're already enough out of your comfort zone without abandoning your first language. You're close enough to fluent in your three verbal languages, but you have a habit of not being able to choose between affecting a native accent or sticking with your Texan one and the resulting impact is ... less than pretty. 

He sits up and pats the rocks next to him invitingly. Well, that you can interpret. You sit down a respectful distance away and he immediately hops closer. He stares at you as if you're every bit as interesting as he is. Which ... no. He's amazing. He's a literal living legend. You're just some guy.

His eyes are the same vibrant blue as his scales, and are framed by ludicrously long and thick black eyelashes. His hair is black as well, and short and just neat enough that you're wondering if mermaids have barbers and if he's maybe due for another cut. Which might be the most ridiculous thing you've ever thought in your life. 

His skin doesn't quite look like yours, and when you reach out to touch it, carefully making your movements obvious in case he wants to stop you, it feels ... is rubbery the right word? Like it's thicker and firmer than human skin, almost like a dolphin's but warm and dry. He's covered in dark freckles, and you trace a pattern into the ones on his shoulder before you realise you're being pretty forward and stop. You take your hand back and immediately mentally kick yourself because you touched his human half and didn't even get to feel his tail.

He seems to take your withdrawal as an invitation to touch you back. He reaches for your hand first, which is when you notice the delicate webbing in between his fingers, and he plays with your watch before moving up your arm to your shirt. He pokes one of your freckles and smiles at you. You think he's pointing out your similarities, or maybe making fun of you for touching his when you have your own. 

He touches the fabric of your t-shirt and plays with the collar, finding your skin underneath. This seems to puzzle him, so you take the shirt off and hand it to him to inspect. He turns it over in his hands for a couple of distracted seconds, and then throws it behind him in favour of touching your chest instead.

'Um ...' you say. 

'Ummmm,' he mimics.

That shuts you up. You don't know if he meant it mocking, but you very much need to stop thinking he's going to understand verbal cues. And hell, you don't actually want him to stop. 

His fingers press into your collarbones and then for a heart-stopping moment tighten around your neck before he touches your face. He plays with the arms of your shades enough that they come off your face and he looks at them with amazement. You hold out your hand for him to give them to you and place them carefully on his nose when he does. 

He grins and says a long stream of nothing you understand in response before taking them off. You take them from him before he can throw them like he did your shirt. He pulls at your hair while you're turned away and you make an embarrassing noise in surprise and pain. When you look at him, he's covering his mouth like he's sorry, but his eyes are smiling way too much and you think he mostly found it funny. 

You glare at him and tug at his hair in revenge. He pinches you. You stop yourself from retaliating again. You have a brother. You know that if you let things escalate, they just don't stop from happening until one of you is actually hurt or Roxy steps in and kicks both your asses. Instead, you hold your hands up in surrender. 

He grins and goes back to touching your hair, gentler this time. You think maybe he was trying to see if it was supposed to come off as well. Oh god, is he just gonna get you naked without seeing any problem with that? It isn't like he's wearing anything. Unless his tail is somehow removable. Not that you want to picture what that would look like. 

You look up and down the beach, but it's empty. Not that unusual for this time of day, where most of the people in the town are either finishing up work or doing last minute chores before the transition into evening, but you have a feeling it's more than that. The merman wasn't surprised to see you and the very subtle (who are you kidding, you weren't subtle at all, you probably just came off as a jerky tourist) questions you asked about him didn't result in anyone telling you that mermaids are a real thing that exist, so maybe the merman has been somehow letting you see him. 

'Are you magic?' you ask. 'Like, more than expected.'

He stares at you when you speak, but there isn't any evidence on his face that he understands you. 

'I really don't want to keep thinking of you as "Merman",' you say. 'Seeing as you seem just as on board the bone train as I am and seeing as I tend to get my lovers' names before I ... love them. Holy shit, I'm so glad you don't understand me and no one else heard that. This is why I don't speak, I say the dumbest things.'

John gets bored with just listening to you about halfway through your speech and starts feeling you up again. You're not actually sure if he's on board or not, this could be scientific curiosity. Which probably shouldn't make the situation somehow more hot. Are you actually turned on by the idea that he could, what, somehow jerk you off without realising it's sexual just because he's touching places of difference? Yes, yes you really fucking are.

His fingers are tugging curiously at your shorts now and your brain is running about 5000% faster than its usual nauseating too-fast pace trying to figure out if it's unethical to go along with this and whether you care enough about ethics to actually turn down the opportunity. You think you would probably hate yourself for the rest of your life if you stopped an actual real life merman from getting in your pants. You certainly couldn't call yourself a monster fucker wannabe anymore.

And then there's the other pressing problem of  _do you want to get your dick out casually on the beach on a Thursday afternoon?_  Yeah, you're not opposed to a cheeky feel up under a table or at the back of a movie theatre, but this is a bit more extreme than that and in both of those scenarios you'd keep your god damn pants on.

Can you somehow indicate that he's welcome to explore your raging hard on without removing your pants? God damn, when is it your turn to touch him? Nope, actually, you're now completely distracted because you want to know what webbed fingers feel like around your dick.

The merman is looking at you curiously as if wondering why you've stopped being so helpful about the undressing process. You have no idea how to bring up the issue of informed consent without words. You've travelled a lot and slept with people who couldn't speak English, but your obsessive ass can't go to a country without knowing how to proposition dudes in their own language. "Where's the train station?" "What time is it?" "Wanna go back to your place and fuck me like you hate me?" Just the necessary phrases for tourists to know.

'Dude. Friend. Ariel. Ease up for half a second.'

The merman raises his eyebrows. 

This is so incredibly useless. How do you convey your sexual interest without words and without knowing if dicks are a universal constant?

You actually hit yourself in the forehead when you figure it out. You're the biggest idiot in the entire world. It's almost like you've never been to a club and had no way of hearing anyone speak over the music.

You lean in and kiss him on his lips, soft and innocent, just testing the waters so to speak. You don't even know if that's a universal constant, but it sure is a lot less pressure than a handie. 

You pull back and you get the quickest look at John's smile before he's grabbing you by the hair and kissing you back.

Okay, well, there's basically no way that you're misinterpreting this. Unless kisses mean something different to mermaids.  _No_ , fuck, why are you like this. He's into this, stop overthinking.

You kiss him deeper to try and get your brain to stop being so very  _you_ and jolt in surprise when your tongue touches his for the first time. It's scratchier than yours, though way less than a cat's, and thinner, possibly longer. You had gotten so caught up in the ethics of things that you had forgotten that you are trying to fuck someone from another species. 

Thinking about how different his tongue is to yours is leading you down a path of thinking how different his junk must be and it's really not helping the pants situation. You'd actually really like to take them off, if only to stop the uncomfortable press into your dick. Well, that's a lie. That's the least of the reasons you want your pants off.

You touch your hands lightly to his waist and feel cautiously up and down his chest. You can't believe you're dithering about touching his tail, but something about it feels very intimate so you're cautious of jumping in too soon.

You trace the bridge of skin where it transitions to scales, feeling at the edges lightly. He keeps kissing you enthusiastically, so you're going to have to trust that when you overstep, he'll let you know.

You kiss him roughly on the jaw, encouraging his head to the side so you can kiss his neck as well. His gills flutter when you kiss near them. You don't dare kiss them directly in case you drown him or something. 

You get a bit more bold with your hands, touching the webbed material that stretches from his side to his arms. It doesn't seem any more sensitive than the rest of him is, even though the texture is fascinating to you.

You let out an entirely involuntary groan when he squeezes you on the ass and you knock your forehead into his shoulder in embarrassment. If it were up to you, you would be completely silent during sex. It never works out that way. 

Still, it has the pleasant side effect of getting him to grab you even harder and you are shameless enough to really like that. You're very much tempted to take that as encouragement to straddle him, but you still haven't touched his damn tail and that'll just make it harder to access.

You stop fondling his arms and drag your fingers slowly back down to his waist. He nuzzles at your neck, which is awesome because it means you can watch yourself touch his scales for the first time. He sucks lightly at your skin as you finally graze his scales with just the tips of your fingers.

They feel fucking amazing, almost like liquid they're so smooth, and warm from the sun. You kind of want to lick them to feel the texture under your tongue. God, you hope he'll let you do that.

He squirms underneath you, which is pretty fucking encouraging for scaly exploration. You press your hand to his tail and stroke down the curve. There are fins protruding that feel almost like feathers, and you're just realising how long his tail is. 

He flicks it so that it curls around your body, over the top of your legs and coming back in full circle to him again. You feel the muscles shift under your hand and are very aware of how strong they must be. Like, they could crush you. 

You might already be in therapy, but you really think you probably need a whole bunch more. Maybe you need a separate therapist to deal with all your weird kinky bullshit.

You still have no idea how this is going to translate to sex. You're hoping there's some unreasonably large dick hidden away somewhere in his tail. You're not sure if you want the end of his tail up your ass, but hey, if he's offering you'd probably go along with it. Of course, he probably has an ass too, seeing as they traditionally serve other purposes besides getting dicked down. Which again, you're not going to turn it down. You're absolutely down for any flavour of sex this ridiculously attractive fish man can offer you, but a guy has preferences.

'Do you have a cock?' you ask, because a) you have no subtlety, and b) you apparently have not learned from all the other times talking at him has absolutely not worked.

He leans into your chest and talks back in his own language. You think he sounds exasperated, probably at your insistence at trying at speaking again. Or you could be projecting. 

His teeth on your collarbone are ridiculously sharp but you're fine with that. You roll your neck back to give him more room to do whatever the hell he wants.

He seems to recognise this as a submissive as hell display, and his tail coils tighter around you. A breathy moan escapes you. You'd be more annoyed at yourself if he wasn't taking that to mean yes, more, please.

You're so incredibly okay with him forcing you back into the rocks and holding your legs together and down with his tail as he leans over you. He starts pulling at your shorts again, a frustrated frown on his face because he can't figure them out. 

You pull at the strings and ease the shorts down as much as you can with your legs so trapped. He slides off you like a snake and pulls them the rest of the way off. He ends up at your feet, and you quite like being stared at, but you'd really rather him back up in your business again.

He touches your toes, spreading them and tugging them up and down, watching the way your feet move. He moves them apart and you helpfully translate that to spreading your legs for him. He looks up at you curiously and goes back to stroking your leg hair. 

You kind of love being teased, and you're not sure if he's taking his time on purpose or if you're just the first human he's seen and touched and he's satisfying his curiosity. You don't really care, both options are hot as hell and the prick of nails that seem a lot more dangerous than yours on your legs as he slowly makes his way up them is even better.

Finally, he's facing your dick. You have no idea how to tell him to go easy on it, no idea how to make sure he knows what it's even for. You're not sure you'd be able to speak even if you did know how to put it into words. You have a merman in between your legs. It's incredibly distracting.

He strokes his fingers through your pubes, which feels strange and tingly. Not exactly something you've had someone do before, but you guess he only has hair on his head and is curious. 

You shake out your arms one at a time. You wouldn't give up watching this happen for all the forearm discomfort in the world, but you're starting to wish he'd chosen the sand to sunbathe on rather than the rockpools. 

He touches your balls next, first stroking and then lifting them gently, moving them around. You swallow down another moan, but can't help the way your breathing goes a bit heavy.

He traces a his fingertips up your dick with the lightest touch he's given you so far and you groan in frustration, tipping your head back. Not that you don't want him to be careful, but if he isn't teasing you intentionally you'd be pretty fucking surprised. You force your head back up to look at him and he has a wicked grin on his face.

You knew it. The bastard. 

'Please,' you say. You don't care about the language barrier, this dickhead has used tone with you, he has to know what you mean.  
He presses his lips together as if trying to stop from smiling, even though his cheeks ruin the effect, and cocks his head to one side. He says something, and you don't need a translator, you know exactly what he's saying. 

 _Whatever do you mean?_ has particular feel to it. He's playing dumb and he doesn't care if you know it. Why is he  _so_ your type?

'You're evil,' you tell him. 'You're really fuckin' evil.'

He says something else, but your focus is more on the way his whole palm is moving on you now. So fucking gently. You've been hard since before you even kissed him, horny bastard that you are, you want this so much. 

'You think I'm too proud to beg?' you say.

He grins up at you again. You don't know if he understands your words or just your challenging and yet so god damn breathy tone. You couldn't sound more desperate if you tried. 

'Come on, man, please,' you say. 

Oh hey, yeah, you could sound more desperate. Interesting to know. 

He circles his hand around your dick and slides it up and down. You're incredibly encouraged by this. Surely this means he has a dick too.

He looks up at you expectantly, his hand halting. Oh god, is he actually making you do this? He can't even understand you, you could be saying anything! Except you can't think of anything that isn't exactly what he seems to be fishing for. 

'Don't stop,' you say. 'Or do, and get up here where I can get my hands on you too.'

He shuffles a bit closer, and strokes you slowly. He meets your eyes and slowly slips his tongue out of his mouth. You were right to think it was thinner and longer than yours, even if it's not by that much. He could probably touch the point of his chin with it, but it isn't snakey.

He looks up at you with those huge, innocent, blue eyes. He holds still, waiting for a reaction. 

You groan and lie back so you can grab at your hair in exasperation. What the actual fuck. How is he playing you so easily?

You breathe heavily for a moment and try to focus. His hand is still moving, incredibly gently and slowly around you. You know that what he's offering will be even better and you can't fucking think. Why are you so stubborn? Just beg the damn merman to suck you off. 

You force yourself back up to look at him. He grins widely around his tongue and then relaxes back into the same ready expression as before.

'Fuck you,' you say. 

He waits patiently. Yeah, that didn't sound like begging to you either. 

'God damn it, please, okay, please suck me, please, I'll happily return the favour, you're killing me, Ariel.'

He licks a long and slow stripe up your dick. You moan like it's your first ever blow job and can't even bring yourself to be embarrassed this time. Shit, if it means he knows to keep doing that, you'll moan like a god damn porn star. 

His tongue is rougher than anything you typically introduce to your dick, but it's also wet and warm and oh god, it can curl around you. He kisses messily at your head and you collapse off your elbows and onto your back. 

You should be more bothered by the sharp pain that falling even that small distance into the rocks gives you, but you have so much more important things to be thinking about.

'Please,' you pant. 'Oh god, fucking hell, man.'

He slides his mouth down and sucks at you gently. You whine. 

'God, I really want you to fuck me. There's no way you don't have a dick. This is not a first blow job. Unless you've blown humans before, but then why the curiosity.'

He pays zero attention to you talking as he works you over. You're struggling not to thrust up into his mouth so much. 

'You're going to make me come,' you complain.

Well, you try to complain, it comes out much too moany. It sounds like you're begging him to. Which, on the one hand, yeah, you want it so much it almost hurts. On the other, you want him to fuck you more than you have ever wanted to be fucked before, which given your history ...

You're too close, way too close, and you don't trust him to stick around for round two. You don't trust yourself to stop him once you come, you get way too relaxed to be stopping anyone from doing anything. 

You thread your fingers through his hair and tug him off your dick. He hums and goes with the motion and oh god he wants you to guide his head while he goes down on you. 

You can't help yourself, you push him down before you pull him off. He starts to move down again without you pushing him, but you hold his hair steady and pull him completely off. 

He frowns up at you like he's disappointed and you very nearly take it back, push him towards you like you're just going to use him. But you really, really want him to fuck you.

You tug on his hair as if you're going to drag him up your body. He gets the picture and crawls on his hands up to you. You watch his tail slither behind him with fascination.

'Please tell me you have a dick,' you say. 'Please tell me you have a dick the size of my god damn torso and you're about to wear me like a sock.'

As you speak, your hands are moving leisurely over what would be his ass if you had any idea where his ass begins or ends, which you don’t, due to him having a fucking tail. He presses his face to your neck so that he can kiss and suck at it and you pull his chin back towards your face so you can kiss him properly. 

He relaxes into you and you feel his tail heavy on your dick as he does. At first you think that the wetness you feel is just left over from his mouth, but you definitely feel something that cannot be explained by human-adjacent genitalia happening down there.

You push at his shoulder to get him to lean off you a bit so you can see. He follows your gaze and then grins at you. 

He says something in his strange musical language before reaching down to cup the many somethings that have emerged from his groin area.

You'd call them tentacles, but you have a sister with an unhealthy obsession with tentacles and these are not that. They're more like whatever anemone's doodads are supposed to be called. Actually, you think they're called tentacles too. And there's a very healthy bunch of them, a large handful of them, looking for all the world like they're floating in water even though you're on dry land.

You really wish you knew what he'd just said to you. You also really wish you'd thought of a one-liner before exposing your junk. You're less concerned with that than you could be, because he's leaning back on you again and his wiggly whatever-they're-calleds are squirming all over your dick again. 

The most important take away from this is that those things can and definitely should go in your ass.

'Okay, Ariel, now is the time to interpret a hell of a lot from my tone. Listen to me being a needy little bitch right now.'

The merman just looks at you blankly. You are not going to mime this out. 

'Look at me spreading my legs. I am exposing myself for you very nicely. Wiggle those in me.'

He looks like he's really trying to be interested in the noises you are making that are meaning nothing to him, but there really isn't much he can do. You sigh.

You push him so he's bracing himself, not touching you again. He goes with your motion without resisting, but you get the feeling that he's humouring you and he is more than willing to correct the notion that you're in control if you take it too far. Unless that's you projecting again.

You tilt your hips up slightly and reach down to spread your ass cheeks. He ducks his head curiously to see what you're doing.   
'That's it, please recognise what I'm saying here. Put your frondy bits in me.'

You spread yourself more, teasing your fingers on your rim. 

'Please. Come on, you have to recognise that one word by now. I think I've said it more to you today than I have this past year. Please, dude.'

He places his hand tentatively on your hips, and you almost sob with relief. You force yourself not to get ahead of yourself, there's no guarantee he's got it. 

It'd probably be easier on your knees, but you don't want your dick anywhere near these rocks. They're smooth, as far as rocks go, almost like glass in places, but you're not an idiot. Your back is probably still gonna have bruises on it.

He crawls back in between your legs, looking at your face as if to check that he's doing the right thing. You nod, and then recognising the ridiculousness of expecting him to know what a nod is, gasp out another, 'Please.'

He presses his hips up against your ass and you feel the tentacles pushing against your rim. You relax against the rocks and moan. There's so many points of contact, all of them wet with something mermaidy and delicious and they're all gently probing at you. If you weren't so incredibly horny, you would want to luxuriate in the sensation for as long as possible.

But you are, so you move your legs until he gets what you want and lets you hook them in front of his arms, spreading them further and giving you something to brace yourself on. He checks your face again before returning his focus to your ass. 

One of his tentacles presses inside you and you moan. His face snaps to look at yours. You see something like relief replaced almost immediately with heat. He leans down to kiss you, pushing against your legs to get to your face. You wish you focused more on flexibility like you do every time you get into a position like this. You can take the stretch, but you can't sustain it for as long as you want.

He leans back before you have to complain though, and then there's another tentacle pushing into your ass. 

A couple of them are wrapping themselves around your balls as well, teasing at the base of your dick. You 100% endorse mermaid sex, it feels incredible. 

He moves his hips as another tentacle presses into you. With them being maybe half the size of his fingers and slicked up with whatever the hell they're slicked up with, they're going in you so easy, but there's also a lot of them and they're adding up to a pretty fucking delicious stretch.

He groans above you, his hips grinding in small movements as more and more of his tentacles work their way inside you. By the time he whines and presses his face into your foot, you're feeling so fucking full, you actually don't think you could take any more. 

Which again, for you, is really saying something. 

He's buried in you as far as he can be, holding still while you both adjust. They aren't even moving inside you anymore. You think it's too tight.

'Please move, bro, please, fuck me,' you moan.

He leans down to kiss you again and even that small movement is enough to make you crazy. You suck on his tongue desperately until he pulls away. 

'Please, you fucker,' you say. 

He smiles at you like he knows exactly what you're saying. And finally fucking moves.

His tentacles were wriggly and soft when they first started poking inside you, but as more and more entered, they seemed to get stiffer. You're starting to think they weren't moving because they get harder the more turned on he is, not because they didn't have room. As he thrusts, they don't spill out, they stay in you, just the slightest change in shape as he moves. You feel everything, stretched out as you are. 

You are moaning on every single thrust but you can't care anymore. You feel wrecked, your dick is throbbing and you don't know how much more you can take.

You feel it when he comes, and you make a strange sobbing noise out of desperation. You need to come, you can't even think anymore. 

He wraps his hand around you and jerks you with quick, loose movements. The noise you make when you finally come could almost be described as a scream.

His tentacles slip out of you and he collapses onto the rocks next to you. He rubs at his upper arms as you both pant for breath. 

'Fuck, Ariel,' you say. 'How the actual fuck am I supposed to go back to fucking humans now.'

'My name's John,' he pants.

It takes you a minute to figure out that he just talked. In English. In response to something you just said. You give him your most bewildered frown. He laughs breathily. 

'Did you suddenly get magic universal translator powers through the magic of sex,' you ask, your voice flat with disbelief.

He grins mischievously at you. 

'Nope!' he says.

'I hate you,' you tell him.

'That's not very polite,' he says. 'And you never told me your name, either.'

You sigh and cover your face with your hands.

'Dirk,' you say. 'I can't believe your name is John. That's so thoroughly unmagical.'

'I make up for it in other ways,' he says. 

You lie next to each other for a while, until you decide dignity is a lost cause anyway and you actually really like this dickhead and roll over to cuddle him. He smiles at you fondly and strokes your hair. 

'I have so many questions,' you say.

'Bluh,' he says. 'Questions are dumb.'

'Firstly, can we do that again tomorrow.'

He brightens immediately. 

'Oh, yeah! Absolutely!'

'Cool. The rest can wait until my brain solidifies.'

He hums agreeably and kisses you on the forehead.


End file.
